


Damn Gorgeous

by Autobratty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Sex, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Riding, Sticky, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (IDW)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autobratty/pseuds/Autobratty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wing was damn gorgeous. There was no point fighting it; no shame in admitting it. To himself, at least. The problem was, unbeknownst to Drift, the jet was beginning to catch on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn Gorgeous

Wing was damn gorgeous. There was no point fighting it; no shame in admitting it. To himself, at least. The problem was, unbeknownst to Drift, the jet was beginning to catch on.

The (ex?) Decepticon had begun opening up to him, albeit very slowly. It seemed that with each passing day, another thin layer of Drift’s hardness was peeling away like chipped paint, trying desperately to cling to a surface, but eventually giving in.

When he’d first arrived, Drift was angry, cold, and closed off. He wanted nothing to do with the city; nothing to do with Wing. They would get up in the morning, in their separate rooms - luckily Wing had a guest suite, although by the looks of the boxes inside it, it was used more as a storage space - have their morning energon, meditate. Then they would go to the training center and spend a few hours doing hand-to-hand combat or practicing with swords, only interrupted by having lunch. Then they would go home, exhausted - Drift from trying so hard to beat Wing; Wing from trying so hard to get through to Drift. They would use the washracks and then have dinner, usually sitting out on the balcony and watching the false light of New Crystal City dimming from vibrant blues and golds to soft pastel orbs, seeming to float in the plush darkness. At first, Drift refused to refuel with Wing; but he’d eventually came around in favor of watching the beautiful city lights fade, Wing’s soft golden optics the night’s only illumination remaining.

The routine stayed the same, and Wing was as tactile as ever, but he noticed that the grounder had started to accept the touches instead of smacking Wing’s hand away - even slightly leaning into the touch at times. On the rare occasions times Drift initiated physical contact, accidentally or on purpose, instead of snatching his hand back, his touches had become more gentle, more…lingering. Wing could have been imagining it, but it was getting to a point where it was somewhat hard to ignore. And Drift probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

It was one night on the balcony that removed all doubt of Wing’s suspicions. It had been a long day of training, and they were lounging on the patio couch, sipping their evening energon - well, more of Wing sipping his; Drift always gulped his down as fast as possible, as if someone was going to snatch it away from him at any moment. His empty cube set aside, Drift reclined back on the couch, arms and ankles crossed, gazing down at the whispering city below as Wing was finishing off his energon. Thoroughly exhausted, the speedster struggled to stay awake, bright optics flickering. Wing tried to suppress a smile.

“You can go recharge, if you’d like. You don’t have to sit out here while I finish.” Drift mumbled something along the lines of a weak protest, cozying down more into the plush sofa. Wing chuckled, setting aside his empty cube, but not immediately getting up. He snuck a glance at Drift, and his spark skipped a beat. Half asleep, this was the most peaceful Wing had ever seen him, and with the soft glow of the city’s dying lights illuminating his plating, Drift was beautiful.

Wing was a very tactile mech, but he’d tried to reign himself in, knowing how much Drift disliked the simplest of touches, and he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. But here with the grounder nearly asleep, head lolling to the side til his right finial rested against Wing’s left shoulder nacelle, the jet couldn’t help it. He very carefully shifted his arm back so it hung loosely around Drift’s shoulders, and he softly ran a finger up one of Drift’s finials. When he stirred momentarily, Wing nearly snatched his arm back, but instead of shoving the knight off of him, he actually…scooted closer. Marginally, but it still happened. Drift cracked an optic, blue light spilling onto his cheek as he blearily glanced up at Wing, as if trying to gauge who had an arm around him. The white mech held his breath, only letting it out when the speedster closed his optic again, and snuggled closer.

Drift _snuggled?_

The knight smiled, holding him a little closer, continuing to stroke his finial with one finger. They sat like that for what seemed like a long, long time.

Wing let out a yawn. He needed to recharge too, and it was starting to get a bit chilly out, despite the warm frame asleep next to him. When he tried to withdraw his arm, much to his surprise, Drift grasped his hand, optics still closed, and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “don’t go”.

The jet wasn’t sure if Drift was really aware that this was real life, or if he was halfway still in a dream, but either way, Wing’s smile brightened, and he whispered, “Not leaving. Just gonna take you inside.” Seemingly satisfied with that, Drift nodded slightly and dozed off again. Wing carefully slid one arm beneath the darker mech’s spaulders, one beneath his knees, and hefted Drift up into his arms, carrying him inside.

It might’ve just been his imagination, but Wing swore that Drift nuzzled against his chest. Spark throbbing, he carried his sleepy charge into the guest room, laying him down on the soft sheets. As he turned to leave, Drift caught his wrist, and when Wing swung around to look at him, the grounder’s optics were onlined, looking much more aware than before.

“ _Please_ don’t go,” he murmured, optics piercing holes into Wing’s spark. All the knight could do was press his his lips together and nod.

Wing climbed onto the berth, trying to maintain a respectful distance, but Drift scooted over towards him, still holding onto his wrist, and buried his face against the jet’s shoulder. Starting to slip back into recharge, he grumbled, “Hope this is okay.”

The knight bit his lip, feeling as if his spark was going to burst. This couldn’t really be Drift; in the morning he’d wake up and flip out at Wing for being in here, and never let the jet near him ever again. At the moment, however, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He used his free hand to gently caress Drift’s cheek armor.

“Yeah,” he whispered, voice cracking. “This is okay.”

\---

In the morning, Drift woke with a start.

He jerked away from the frame next to him, a feeling of dread lighting up every sensor in his body, spark turning cold inside his chest - until he saw Wing, laying on his back, lips parted, wings slightly unfurled, looking like something too beautiful to be real.

Wing was damn gorgeous. There was no point fighting it; no shame in admitting it. But after memories of last night came flooding back into his processor, he felt as if his behavior was as close to an admission as it was going to get, and boy was he embarrassed.

Falling asleep on the balcony. Resting against Wing, letting him wrap an arm around him and stroke his finials. Wing carrying him inside; snuggling up to Wing’s chest like a newframe. Him…asking Wing to stay.

Frag. There was no getting out of this now.

Wing began to stir, his side growing cold where Drift had moved away from him. His optics blinked open, like twin suns rising to greet the day. When they focused on Drift, his face lit up in a smile definitely brighter than any star.

“Good morning.”

Drift coughed, clearing his intake. “Um. Yeah. Morning.”

Wing shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. “Sleep well?”

The grounder nodded and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. _Best sleep of my life._ “Yeah. Uh…sorry about last night. I was just really tired, I guess.”

Just when he thought Wing’s smile couldn’t get any bigger, it grew again. “You don’t have to apologize. It was…nice to recharge with someone.” Drift blinked. Was that a hint of loneliness in his voice?

He remembered what Wing had said when they first met, when he asked him who he was. _I’m alone._

Drift knew how that felt.

“Y-yeah. I didn’t mind…”

“Well, you did ask me to stay,” Wing pointed out carefully. “Or, rather, to ‘not go’.”

Drift’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he clenched his jaw shut, and looked away; at the ceiling, the floor, the wall, anywhere but Wing - so he didn’t see when Wing stealthily scooted over, sitting up on the soft sheets. Next thing Drift knew, the knight was closer to him than was comfortable. “Drift,” he murmured, cupping the grounder’s chin to turn his head to look him in the eye. “It’s okay. It’s more than okay.”

Visibly relaxing, Drift closed his optics and leaned into Wing’s touch. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. They both knew that Drift craved this; this simple, reassuring touch, the sensation that someone actually cared for him enough to handle him gently, not because he was fragile or dangerous, but because he was worth something.

As Wing pulled him into his arms, Drift had never felt so meaningful to anyone in his life.

After the initial shock of the touch wore off, he buried his face against Wing’s neck, inhaling deeply, trying to savor the sweet scent of Wing’s polish, knowing that with his luck, he wouldn’t have an opportunity like this again. As he cradled Drift against him, Wing rocked back and forth slowly. After what seemed like a long time, he gently nuzzled the grounder’s finial and asked, “Drift, what do you really think of me?”

Drift halted, lidded optics flying open, and he pulled out of the embrace. “What? W-why?”

Wing smiled sheepishly, giving a little shrug that melted Drift’s resolve. “Just curious.”

The speedster sighed. He should’ve known this was coming - Wing was far too ‘curious’ for his own good. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “I dunno.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Was really angry at you at first for trapping me here, like a prisoner. But,” he continued, still not meeting Wing’s gaze, “I guess I understand why you did it. I fragged up and nearly got killed, and…would’ve been had you not taken me here to get fixed up.”

Drift looked down at his hands, voice softening. “Since I’ve been here, you’ve given me fuel, a safe place to live, instruction on how to better my fighting skills…given me someone who cares.” He paused, glancing up at Wing. “I’ve never had that before. And I never did anything to deserve it, so I just thought that I’d never have…” Drift’s words trailed off, and he gestured vaguely at Wing. _Just thought I’d never have anything like you,_ he thought to himself.

The knight seemed to absolutely melt, his optics softening to molten pools. “Oh, Drift…you do deserve it. You deserve not only someone who cares about your well-being, but who will love you, adore you, promise to be with you always…” Wing rested his helm crest against Drift’s, cupping his cheeks in dark palms. His optics flickered, confidence wavering. “And…I’d like to be that person, if you’d let me.”

The ex-Decepticon shot backwards as if he’d been slapped, nearly tumbling backwards off the berth. “Y-you…? But…” He shook his head in disbelief, face contorting in a mixture of confusion and poorly repressed hopefulness. “You…you don’t want someone like me.”

“Oh, but I do.”

The knight leaned forward again, nasal ridge brushing against Drift’s in a soft nuzzle, and then pressed his lips to the speedster’s in what had to be the most tender touch of his entire life.

It was all too soon that Wing pulled back slightly, the warm softness of his lips just barely leaving Drift’s, and gazed longingly into blazing blue optics. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known,” he murmured, gently brushing his lips against Drift’s again. “In a good way. The best way.”

Drift smiled genuinely against Wing’s lips, feeling like his circuits had turned to mush, everything lighting up inside him with a golden warmth. “Oh, same.”

Wing giggled into his mouth, and Drift grinned back, gently nipping the jet’s lower lip. Wing wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, kissing the corners of his mouth and all over his faceplates. Drift laughed aloud. Someone…legitimately cared about him. He hadn’t had that in a long, long time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.

Had he ever been this happy?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Wing was smoothing his hands down the planes of Drift’s armor, gently digging into seams to massage the taut wires underneath, seeking out which places made the grounder gasp and twitch. He pressed kisses all over the grounder’s face, whispering sweet nothings against his plating.

“From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were special…what I didn’t expect, is for you to become so special to me.” Drift bit his lip, sliding his hands up Wing’s spinal struts and smoothing over his folded flightpanels, and rested his head on the knight’s shoulder nacelle. “You really…mean that?”

“Of course I do,” Wing chirruped softly, nuzzling against Drift’s helm. “I know you’ve had a hard past, Drift. I don’t need to know your story - I can see it in your optics. But the past isn’t what matters.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of a white finial. “It’s the future that’s important. And,” he continued, albeit more shyly, “I know you want, er, need to get back to your war. But if you can find it in your spark, I…I would really like if you would spend your future with me.”

Drift pulled away from where he’d nuzzled his face in against the jet’s neck, blue optics alight with shock and awe. “Seriously?”

A nod. “These past few weeks with you here have been unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. And though at times you’ve been ornery and cold and crass, I can see that underneath your hard exterior, you are a big softie somewhere deep down.” He poked the speedster’s chassis, and Drift snickered. “Okay, maybe you’ve got a bit of a point, but…” His face creased with something like worry. “There are so many mecha here that are kinder, smarter, better-looking, more talented, more able to be able to care for you, than me…”

Wing shook his head. “That’s the thing, Drift. I don’t want any of them.” He cupped Drift’s face in his hands, gazing at him longingly. “I want _you._ ”

Drift burst into tears.

Every repressed emotion he’d held in from the time of his creation until now flowed freely in the form of coolant streaming down his face and Wing’s chestplates as the knight pulled him close, holding the weary mech tightly, cradling him in his lap as he cried. “Shh, it’s okay, Drift. Let it out. Everything’s going to be okay. You’re here with me, and I promise, I am never, ever going to let you go.”

The speedster shook with choking sobs. "P-Promise?" Wing pulled back gently, looking him in the eye and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I promise."

The white knight kissed him again, more firmly this time, like an affirmation to his claim. Drift melted into his arms, the flow of coolant ceasing, and settled his hands on lovely white skirting panels, gently rubbing Wing's hips with his thumbs.

The next thing he knew, Wing was flicking his lips with his tongue and pulling him down on top of him, and Drift was loving every second of it. He caught the tip of Wing’s tongue gently between his teeth, suckling lightly, and the knight moaned into his mouth.

Oh, Primus. He should’ve been affectionate towards Wing sooner.

Wing’s mouth yielded to Drift’s, and in less than a minute, the grounder was straddling the jet’s waist, kissing him tenderly yet fervently. Wing rubbed at Drift’s plating as they kissed, lavishing attention upon him, and Drift shuddered at the slide of skilled swordsmech hands roaming his body, slipping into seams, massaging his back, just overall _caressing_ him. He let out a whisper of a sigh, giving Wing one last lingering kiss, completely out of breath, and ducked his head down to bury his face against the knight’s neck. This was everything he ever wanted and so, so much more.

As Wing stroked his back and shoulders, Drift nuzzled and gently nibbled at his neck cables, and the knight gave a soft gasp, tilting his helm back to allow Drift more room. The grounder grinned, sliding his tongue up Wing’s main energon line and then sucking where it met the underside of his jaw, the jet biting his lip and clutching at dark hips.

“D-Drift…”

The ex-Decepticon pulled back, gazing down at Wing with sudden apprehension. “Yeah? Did I, um.” He coughed against the back of his hand, optic ridges furrowing. “…Sorry.”

Wing laughed, the sound a light and airy ring, and he pulled Drift into a tight embrace, stroking his finials. “No, no,” he breathed, a smile in his voice. “This is…perfect. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Drift went completely rigid. If he was okay…? He pulled back to look Wing in the eye, chewing the corner of his lip. He was terrible with words - he wanted to tell the jet that this was beyond okay, this was wonderful and everything he’d ever wanted and could never have, just to be close to someone who cared, to hold and be held. In the end, he settled for a simple, “Yeah.”

The knight’s face lit up again, and he pressed a searing kiss to Drift’s mouthplates that left both of them dizzy and breathless.

“Drift…how far do you want to go with this?” he murmured against the speedster’s lips. Drift paused, giving this serious consideration. Wing was asking him this. Which kind of implied that…Wing wanted to.

Wanted him.

It’d been a long, long while since he’d interfaced, and he was pretty sure that when they’d rebuilt most of him here, they’d installed new equipment down there - meaning, this might hurt. But was there really anyone he’d rather do this with?

Simple answer: No.

This was Wing. He wouldn’t make it hurt; he’d make it perfect, just like everything else Wing did. Drift gazed intently into golden optics for a few moments, as if searching for something, some trace of insincerity or possible betrayal. But as Wing met his gaze evenly, all he saw there was genuine.

“I’ll go as far as you're okay with. As long as it's with you, I'd do anything.”

Wing closed his optics, giving a little sigh that sounded almost like relief, and cradled Drift against his chest, stroking his finials with one hand. Drift reached up to return the favor, smoothing his thumbs across Wing’s silky audial flares. They lay like that for a while, just petting each other gently, enjoying the other’s touch, until Wing started getting a little squirmy.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Wings are getting kinda crushed.”

Drift immediately sat up, still straddling the knight’s waist, as he unfurled his flightpanels, and settled back down. Drift hadn’t really been able to see them up close yet. Gesturing to one, he asked, “May I?” The jet nodded, resting his hands on Drift’s kneecaps. “Of course. But careful, they’re sensit-ahhhh…”

Wing went completely slack, letting out a heady moan as Drift skimmed his fingertips over the sensitive surface of his wings. He smiled at the jet’s reaction, rubbing little circles near where the panels connected to Wing’s armor. The knight arched his back, gasping, optics flying open and cooling fans roaring. “D-Drift! Ngh…”

The grounder decided that Wing gasping his name like that was probably the best sound in the universe. The only thing that might be better would be if he could make the flier moan it.

He gently scraped his digits over the smooth fightpanels and then pinched the tips, and Wing keened, arching back again, his hips involuntarily bumping up into Drift’s. The speedster bit his lip, his vents opening up, and very carefully pressed his interface panel to Wing’s as he leaned forward to nibble along the leading edge of a wing strut.

Wing was much more responsive to that than he’d thought. He flung an arm over his face, keening, his other hand clutching at a dark thigh, and ground his hips up against Drift’s in slow circles. It was the speedster’s turn to gasp - he had to restrain himself from retracting his panel right then and there. Wing writhed under him, trying to get as much stimulation as possible. Drift swirled his tongue against the smooth surface of a wing as he rubbed around where they joined at his back, the jet completely unraveling beneath him.

“Drift…p-please…” Drift cut him off with a kiss, sliding his hands off the wings to grasp at the knight’s audial flares, pressing their mouths together in a deep kiss as he rubbed his hips into Wing’s. The flier moaned pleas into his mouth and Drift decided that he’d teased Wing enough. He pulled away from the kiss gasping, continuing to roll his hips against Wing’s as they caught their breath.

“Sure you…still wanna do this?” _Still want me?_

Wing nodded frantically, and Drift cracked a smile. He leaned down to brush his mouthplates across an audial flare, whispering, “Then open up.”

Before he’d even finished his request, both Wing’s primary and secondary panels had snapped back, revealing a glistening valve and thick spike, adorned in red biolighs with a gold spot right around the slit. Drift shivered, brushing two fingers up the underside of the spike, and Wing sobbed, his whole body twitching gorgeously. He snapped back his own panel, then immediately remembering his current situation.

“Hey, Wing…I, um.” Wing managed to crack an optic open to look up at him. Drift gestured to his array. “Seals.”

The flier’s optics widened, his breathing heavy as the reconstruction of Drift’s body popped back into his mind. “Kay,” he whispered, holding out his arms, tugging at Drift’s thighs. “C’mere.”

Drift opened up his panels, spike not being able to be released until the seal was removed, and scooted forward, letting Wing guide him, and gasped when the knight pulled his hips down atop his face. “Wing…!”

Wing ignored his cry and swirled his tongue against the ex-Decepticon’s softly-glowing anterior node, and Drift braced his arms on either side of the jet’s head, using every drop of his self-restraint to keep from grinding right down into Wing’s face. “Oh, Primus.”

The knight teased for a few moments, swirling his tongue around Drift’s outer node and nibbling at his smooth new valve lips. When it was clear Drift couldn’t take anymore, pressing his hips down against Wing’s face, the flier suddenly thrust his tongue up into Drift’s valve.

He wailed, trying to open his legs wider as Wing slid his tongue in and out of his valve, nipping his anterior node every once and a while. He gripped Drift’s thighs, pulling him close, and gave one of his valve lips a hard suck, lubricant dribbling out onto his face. Sobbing out in pleasure, the speedster ground his valve down against Wing’s open mouth as he flicked his tongue in and out of Drift’s valve quickly, getting him worked up as the flier already was, but knowing that Drift couldn’t overload from his valve with the seal still in place.

“W-Wing…p-please,” he whimpered, grinding down into Wing’s face. “It…it hurts.”

The flier gave his outer node one last hard suck before helping Drift to sit back up, knees wobbling. “Feeling good?” he whispered, ignoring that his mouth was covered with transfluid. Drift nodded emphatically. With a pleased smile, Wing began guiding him back towards his spike.

With Drift’s valve being unused, it was going to be a tight fit, so he pulled on his spike a few times and smeared lubricant from his valve up to coat his spike, and Drift came to his assistance as well after drawing the same conclusion. He rubbed his valve up and down the length of Wing’s spike before lifting himself up on shaky legs, positioning himself over the thick spike, whimpering quietly.

“Hey,” Wing murmured, taking Drift’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We can take this slow.” The grounder nodded, reaching down with a deep breath to spread his swollen valve lips, guiding the golden tip of the spike inside of him, and both of them moaned. Wing reached up to rest his hands on Drift’s hips, slowly pushing himself up into Drift til the tip of his spike was fully pressed inside Drift’s warm, welcoming valve, calipers already cycling down against the head of his spike.

“Primus, Drift…you feel so g-good…”

Wing slowly began rocking up into Drift, each time pressing in a little deeper, reveling in the ex-Decepticon’s pleasured moans and the way he dug his fingers into the joints at Wing’s hips. Drift began to carefully grind down onto the hard spike, feeling it slide tightly in and out of his new valve, enjoying every second as Wing began to delve deeper, filling him more and more.

The flier gritted his teeth, the friction of Drift’s tight valve delicious against his spike, it’s red biolights pulsing inside of the speedster. Once Drift had lowered himself two-thirds of the way down, Wing’s spike bumped against the valve seal, and Drift cried out, startled.

Wing panted, holding Drift’s hips still, fingers rubbing little circles into his plating. “Ready?”

Breathless, Drift nodded, and Wing jerked his hips up, snapping his valve seal in one quick motion. Drift was held still by strong swordsmech hands as he sobbed and Wing slid his spike in and out of his clenching valve, easing the sharp pain into pleasure. His sobs became moans, and he dragged his fingers down Wing’s back as the knight struck his ceiling node, toppling Drift into his first overload.

Wing, however, wasn't quite done yet. He slowly thrust up into the slick, clenching valve, chasing his own overload. With each jerk of his hips, Drift would bounce on his spike, drool slipping out the corner of his mouth.

As Wing’s thick, beautiful spike spurted hot transfluid into him, filling up his tank, the white knight crying out in triumph, only thought entered Drift’s head: Wing was damn gorgeous. And as he carefully pulled the ex-Decepticon down into an embrace, his spike still lodged in Drift’s valve, tenderly kissing his finials, Drift made a decision. Since there was no point fighting it and no shame in admitting it, he may as well do everything in his power to prove that simple truth to his beautiful knight every day for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> (For anyone worried, this is my new AO3 account, if you liked, bookmarked or commented on the other version of this fic, feel free to do so here because I will be deleting the old one!)


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